Tattooed Heart
by banhan
Summary: In which Stiles has woken up in a strange place with no recollection of his past, but can only remember the name "Derek". As time progresses, Stiles memories start to come back and he remembers what has happened in the past and has a hard time dealing with it. Derek is there to prevent him from having a break down. Established Sterek
1. Chapter 1

_Tattooed heart _

_In which Stiles has woken up in a strange place with no recollection of his past, but can only remember the name "Derek". As time progresses, Stiles memories start to come back and he remembers what has happened in the past and has a hard time dealing with it. Derek is there to prevent him from having a break down. Established Sterek _

**Hey guys, so this is my new fic. I don't know why, but I have major teen wolf feels and I really wanted to write this. I hope you guys read and enjoy it. Xx **

Stiles opened his eyelids that felt extremely heavy. Everything was blurry, he couldn't make out any shape or form, he had no idea where he was. All he knew was that he was laying down on an extremely uncomfortable surface that was hurting his back as small rocks stuck dug into the skin, forming little bruises. He felt a small tide soaking his feet to the point where his toes weren't even cold, they were just numb.

Rolling onto his stomach, Stiles groaned as rocks stabbed his stomach. Not ideal in the slightest. This was just his luck though, to have no idea where he was but to get continuously stabbed by rocks that seemed to want to make his life a complete living hell.

Once his eyes cleared, Stiles could finally make out his surroundings and where he was. He could make out a small river at his feet- which explained the numbness in his toes-, he saw a bridge about two meters from where he lay on the floor, but other than that, everything was dark. There were no stars in the sky tonight and the moon was obscured by heavy clouds that seemed to sap every happy thoughts or positive feelings out of Stiles body. Though the boy can't remember anything other than his name, he had a strong suspicion that the universe was after him. Or at least hated him. The darkness in the night sky was unnerving and offered him no comfort whatsoever.

Stiles stumbled with fatigue as he got up slowly, but was thankful when he stayed upright and didn't topple over. The first few steps he took where the hardest. His legs were shaking and literally felt like jelly, his heart was beating so incredibly fast that he thought it was going to fall out of his ribcage. The further he walked the easier it became though, and he soon found himself with a destination in sight with a name in his mind.

_Derek….. _

It was a weird and unique name that Stiles had never heard of anyone else having that name before. But it was also an endearingly beautiful name that belonged to none other than the Derek that he was looking for. Stiles had never seen or heard of this Derek guy before, but the name seemed so familiar that he swore he could almost put a picture to the name. A large man, with broad shoulders seem to fit the name. The image in his mind almost eased the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Almost.

When he made it to the woods, a chill swept through his spine and he shivered violently. He couldn't see where he was going at all, the trees covered the sky. Everything was just black. But yet, these trees, the strange smell…it all seemed incredibly known to him, almost like it was familiar territory.

Almost as if he was dreaming, Stiles continued walking, knowing exactly where his destination was. It felt weird walking to his destination based on pure instinct, but he had nothing else to go on….he had no other lead. He didn't know where he was, didn't who _he _was, he didn't know his age, where he goes to school or if he even still goes to school. For some sick, twisted reason he had no idea who he was and as much as it made him feel uneasy, he had to do something about it, and his instincts were the best thing going for him at the moment.

Stiles froze as he heard voices. Almost like a lot of people talking at once in a rush, each of them trying to talk over the top of each other. The wheels in his head turned: should he keep going forward or should he go back? Deciding on the choice that would probably get him horrifically murdered, he continued to walk in the direction the voices came from.

'Enough', a deep voice growled and Stiles jumped back in fright, before regaining his composure and continuing to walk.

There was a house in the middle of the woods that he could make out. A light was switched on in the upper story and a window was open, whilst cool and gentle music flowed out of the window and made him want to close his eyes and sway side to side with the beautiful instrumental.

This song…it seemed familiar. The way that he was reacting to it made him think it had some kind of significance to him. He can't even remember the song though, can't remember the words to it, but he could make out the fine instrumental that was basically inviting him to barge in the house.

'Do you smell that?', a male voice asked and Stiles stood completely still, his body was frozen in dread.

Was it possible that the male voice was referring to him? Stiles didn't know how, but he was sure that the male had the ability to smell things that a human shouldn't be able to smell. He didn't know how he knew that, but the possibility that there was a random dude walking around with heightened senses freaked him out to the point that the lake where he woken up was kind of tempting. _Kind of. _

'It's Stiles'. Another male voice said, but this voice was different. It was colder, harsher than the other one, but yet there was a sense of familiarity that he had felt when he first began walking in the woods. It seemed so familiar to him, like the type of familiar that he spent nearly everyday with, or the type of familiar that had saved his life many times. It was the type of familiar that brought a little smirk on Stiles face.

At his name, Stiles heart beat even faster than before and his legs wobbled with the prospect that maybe someone knew him. A thousand thoughts were tumbling through his mind: did these guys really know him?

Stiles already knew the answer before he walked forward and came face to face with three men. No, two of them were teenagers, but the other one was man. A man with a beard and eyes that were cold and foreboding; he had a tan and muscles that could easily put a pro-wrestler to shame. As cold as the man's eyes were, once they fell upon Stiles they softened and Stiles could feel a slight blush creep up on his cheeks as the man looked at him with a sense of longing and love. Something that Stiles hadn't felt since…..well, he can't remember when.

'Stiles', the man said. His blue eyes-that looked black in the night sky-were wide with shock and relief.

Stiles slowly moved closer to him, taking small steps as his legs were still wobbly and he was still extremely tired from doing only God knows what. He didn't know what drove him to this man….Derek, he presumed, but it felt right. The stares from the other boys….teenagers….didn't deter him at all as he walked closer and closer to Derek. The closer to Derek he got the more familiar and comfortable he felt. His body didn't hurt as much, his eyes were clearer and sharper than they had been all night, his legs weren't as wobbly as they had been all night, and he wasn't as tired. It was like he a new found strength from this man whom he had never met before.

'Derek?', Stiles asked quietly, face to face with the man. His small and scrawny frame looking even smaller in comparison to the man who was still looking at him with his mouth open in shock.

'Stiles', Derek whispered and the brown haired boy had to hold back an eye roll. He thought they had already established that yes, he was Stiles. Before the boy could say anything, he was being enveloped in a hug. Large arms wrapped around his smaller frame, keeping him safe and secure from the world, and Stiles had to say, the hug was nice. It kept him warm and gave him new found strength.

'I've missed you so much. You've been gone for so long'.

Stiles frowned and pulled back from the hug, a small frown forming on his face. 'Wha…how long have I been gone for?'.

'Stiles', Derek replied, his voice wavering, 'You've been gone for seven months'.

The lanky teenager just stared at the older man. His caramel eyes opened wide with shock. He couldn't have been gone for seven months, and if he was gone for that long, how come he couldn't remember anything? No, this was not right. This was all wrong. He had absolutely no recollection of not only the past seven months, but his entire life. There was something wrong. But as Stiles continued staring at the man in shock, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell had happened in the seven months that he had been gone.

**I'm dying to know if you guys think I should continue with this? I really want to, but I want to know if you guys will read it. So please, tell me what you think of it so far and if you think I should continue with it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A massive thank you to everyone who reviewed! I wasn't expecting to have people genuinely interested in this story, so thank you. Once I am able to, I will thank you guys individually! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)**

Everyone could tell there was a major difference in Stiles. His eyes that normally danced with happiness were dull and held no former laugh. The smile that he gladly wore on his face had disappeared, instead, forming into a frown, even the way he walked was extremely different. There was no bounce in his step, just foreboding steps that made him feel tired with each step that he took. The way he walked, with his shoulders slouched, made it seem like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the weight was dragging him down.

Well, he could definitely testify to the weight of the world being on his shoulders.

Sure, he couldn't remember anything, but that added more stress to his life. The expectant stares from everyone made him feel uneasy and also guilty, almost like he should know who they were, but he couldn't. A teenager who had introduced himself as "Scott" had looked particularly upset when Stiles numbly admitted that he had no idea who he was. The way this Scott guy looked to the ground as if he had just mentally crushed, made Stiles stomach churn in blame. It didn't help when a teenager with strawberry colored hair had come up to him and hugged him tightly, literally knocking his breath out of him.

The hug didn't feel right, though. It felt strange, unknown, cold, nothing like the hug that he had received from Derek. That hug had felt warm and safe….this hug just made him feel uncomfortable. Even though he had no recollection of Derek, there was something about this man that made him feel self-identified and calm.

When everything got to be too much, Stiles sat on the couch with his face in his hands, rocking back and forth as too many voices were trying to talk to him. He was breathing hard and heavy, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and he was stressed out to the max. He didn't know anyone here. They could all be psychopathic murderers trying to kill him for all he knew. He should just run away…but he would have no where to go.

He didn't even know where he was at the moment, Stiles had no idea what town he was in or the company that he was surrounded by. He must've heard about people with amnesia and how they got their memories back, but the thing was, he couldn't remember any stories. Nothing.

'Guys', a stern voice said, 'Leave him alone'.

As quickly as they came, the teenagers left the room in a quick rush, much to Stiles surprise. Looking up with bleary eyes, he saw Derek looking down at him with concern.

'Are you okay?', he asked with as much sincerity that he could muster in his voice.

'I don't know'. Stiles replied honestly, a sudden cramp making its way to his stomach. Probably from not eating for a little while.

'Did you want to eat something?', the man had asked, wanting to come closer to Stiles but unsure of his place.

Stiles shook his head. Though he was hungry, he was more tired than anything and he honestly thought he would fall asleep right there on the couch from the sudden exhaustion he felt.

'Do you want to sleep?', Derek asked, eying the teenager with careful eyes.

'Could I? I am pretty knackered', Stiles replied truthfully, a yawn escaping his thin lips.

The teenager slowly rose to his feet, swaying a little bit before regaining his composure. He didn't know the last time he had slept properly, but he had a feeling he hadn't a proper sleep for the seven months that he was supposedly gone for. Stiles gladly accepted the help from Derek, leaning on the elder as he walked up the steps to a room that looked vaguely familiar.

It was a large room with a queen size bed, cream curtains covered the window that was closed to prevent the cold air from making its way into the warm room. There was a desk near the window with a few comics on there, comics that he was sure he would like to read one day.

After changing into a pair of clothes that fit him –strange- he gladly got into bed, accepting the warmth and comfort that the quilt offered him. This whole room felt like home, it made Stiles feel sheltered. This room probably held some of the most important memories that he had long forgotten, but desperately wished he could get back. Life would be easier if he had his memories, even his memories of his childhood. He would be happy with anything, he was desperate for the memories that was lost.

Stiles had no idea how he lost his memories, he could have been hit hard on the head for all he knew. It was strange to explain how one would feel with no memories, but the best way to put it was that Stiles felt empty.

When he finally fell into a fitful sleep, he dreamed of a strange thing.

_He was in a circular room, there were no windows or any source of light. He could barely breathe in the room and he swore the oxygen was slowly getting sucked out of his body. It was hot in the room, not like boiling hot but the hot where it was in-between hot and cold, which made him feel very uncomfortable_

_Stiles could see himself at the door, which was weird. It was almost as if he was projecting into the room somehow and was able to see the situation at hand. He could see his dream self knocking desperately on the door, screaming and yelling every rude profanity under the sun before ultimately giving up, deciding that it was no hope. Even his dream self could feel that there was no hope left and there was no point in screaming and yelling, which would just end up using all the oxygen in the room. _

_His dream self leaned heavily on the door, panting heavily as sweat covered his features. His clothes were dirty and ripped, and as Stiles observed his dream self, he could see bright red marks on his chest and stomach. _

_Strange. He wondered how he had obtained those? _

_There was a loud bang and he could see himself jump back in fright, a small whimper protruding from his mouth. His eyes darting back and forth in fear. In his dream state that he was in, he could have sworn he had heard himself whimper before calling out Derek. _

'Derek!', he yelled as he sat upright in bed, his back as straight as a ruler. He was panting loudly as his stomach churned uncomfortably, making him feel nauseous. There was little light outside as the sun rose ever so slowly with the grace of an angel, making Stiles feel guilty as he possibly woke everyone up who was sleeping in the house.

Loud footsteps was all Stiles heard before Derek rushed in, looking wide eyes with his appearance disheveled. He looked like a crazed man, but yet, with his presence Stiles felt reassured.

'Are you okay?', Derek asked he rushed forward and sat on the bed, placing a large hand on Stiles knee.

The way Derek acted with such ease around him made Stiles feel as though they were good friends, maybe more.

The teenager nodded his head, 'I just had a bad dream, sorry for disturbing you'

The elder shook his head, 'I wasn't asleep, it's okay. Did you want to go back to sleep?', Stiles shook his head. There was no way he wanted to go back to sleep, especially after _that. _'How about a shower,? I'll lay out some clothes for you on the bed to change into'.

'That actually sounds really nice. May I?'

The elder looked taken aback by Stiles niceness, but he didn't question it. Not now whilst the teenager was so fragile.

After Stiles had taken a warm shower he found he felt more human than he had felt the previous night. The teenager felt clean and light. As he made his way down the stairs to the large kitchen –though how he knew where to go, he had no idea- the smell of bacon and eggs wafted throughout the house, much to the appeal of his sense of smell. It was a lovely atmosphere. The radio was playing lightly in the kitchen, playing the same song he had heard last night through the open window. _Must be a weird coincidence_, he thought to himself.

'How do you feel now?', Derek asked, wearing black jeans with a brown t-shirt, his muscles bulging as he lifted the fry pan up and put the eggs and bacon on two plates. One for him and one for the teenager.

'Better. Thank you for asking'. Stiles eyes the plate of food carefully as it was placed in front of him. He was contemplating whether or not this man had poisoned it so he could easily kill him, but judging from the size of Derek, he assumed he wouldn't have to weaken his prey if he wished to kill them.

Once Stiles had finished off his entire plate, he gratefully accepted a glass of orange juice whilst pretending not to notice Derek staring at him like he wanted to say something to him.

'So', Stiles asked, his glass of orange juice was now empty, 'do I have any family that I should be aware of?'

For the hundredth time in less than twenty four hours, Stiles saw Derek hesitate. The elder had opened his mouth to speak but quickly shook his head and pretended to be deeply interested in the table, staring at it with so much intensity Stiles could've sworn he was trying to burn a hole in the wood.

'Stiles', Derek began, 'there's something you should know'. He paused and took a breath. 'Three months after you disappeared, your father-'

'So I do have a father?'. Stiles interrupted, leaning his face in his hands.

'Please let me finish', Derek replied, his voice pleading. Stiles automatically kept his mouth shut. 'Your father was always looking for you, he was a sheriff so he had all the resources he needed to in order to search for you. One night he had called me, saying he had a lead and he was going to investigate-'

'Why would he call you for?', Stiles asked, genuinely interested.

Derek stared at him as if he were going to scold him for interrupting, but to Stiles astonishment he didn't. 'It doesn't matter. Anyway, I had told him to wait for me, but he didn't. He didn't come back from the investigation'.

'Oh…', Stiles answered, not knowing what else to say. 'He didn-'

'He's dead', Derek blurted out and the teenager just looked at him with his mouth agape.

**So, what did you guys think of this news? Was I mean to kill the sheriff off?  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to Pandabear1715, Goddess of Night Eternal Faith and Guest for reviewing last chapter. It definitely means a lot to me. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

Stiles supposed he should feel miserable, but he doesn't and that's what worries him. His father had been killed looking for him, but yet he couldn't even muster up enough emotions to feel miserable about it. It had something to do with the fact that he didn't even know his fathers name, or what his father looked like, but yet, he still felt horrible about not feeling remotely sad.

When he excused himself to go to the bath room, all he did was stare at himself in the mirror. He didn't know the person staring back at him any more than he knew that Derek guy. His hair was long and wavy, reaching past his ears and falling onto his face, covering some parts of his eyes. His brown eyes looked dull and emotionless.

His eyes should have at least held sadness from the news he had just gotten, but no. They were just emotionless brown eyes that stood out due to this pale skin and his hollow cheeks. Stiles recalled when Derek had told him, the young man had looked extremely sympathetic, his eyes were practically swimming with sadness and he looked as though he was ready to catch Stiles if he collapsed with grief. But Stiles had made no move to indicate that he was feeling sad because he _wasn't _sad. If he could remember his father, then he would feel sad…or maybe feel something, but for now he didn't feel sad _at all. _

Stiles had locked himself in the room that he claimed as his own. No one else stopped him, so he just assumed it was alright. The emotionless teenager locked the door and sat on his bed, reading through the comics that were carelessly thrown on the desk in a small pile. Who knew Batman comics could be so enjoyable to read? Not Stiles, but the more he read the more he enjoyed and he finished one in ten minutes. The teen was just surprised he could still read, seeing as he had lost most of his memories.

He wasn't sure how long he had been locked in his room, but a small knock brought him out of the daze he was in. 'Hey', an unrecognizable voice said behind the door , knocking loudly on the varnished wood. 'Can I come in?'

Stiles didn't reply, he didn't feel the need to as he wasn't going to open the door to some stranger. If it was Derek it would have been a different story, he would have opened the door because he trusted Derek, he was familiar with the man, but anyone else he didn't trust.

Stiles heard the stranger behind the door leave and he couldn't help but take a deep breath. He just wasn't in the mood to socialize with anyone right now. It was understandable though as it hadn't even been a day since he had woken up. He just needed to find his bearings before talking with people who knew him, not to mention finding the courage to actually talk to people who he didn't know.

Stiles mind kept wandering back to his dream and he couldn't help but think it was actually a memory that was buried deep within his brain for reasons that remained unknown. The circular room was cold, dim and daunting, even in his dream he could feel how bad the atmosphere in the room was. It was almost like he was relieving the memory, but instead of staying and observing the memory he had woken up and screamed out for Derek. Well, he was pathetically weak for that. He should have known to never be a coward and call out for someone who couldn't possible help with a nightmare, if he kept up the absurd notion of being clingy on a man whom he can't even remember, then Derek would get angry at him and he didn't want that.

A little part of him thought that Derek was okay with constantly being relied on, though, because surely if the young man had a problem with it he would through him out of the overly large house.

Stiles hid in the room until the sun was setting. The beautiful colors of the sky blurring together, creating a beautiful shade that illuminated the room with different and confused colors that reminded him of his muddled mind right now.

Stiles thought he could remember something, a memory of some sorts was playing out in his mind, but the more he focused on it the faster it went away, leaving the teenager to his thoughts with the room filled with the strange and obscene colors.

'_Stiles'_. He heard a voice say quietly and he whipped his head to the sound where it was coming from, but to his astonishment found absolutely nothing. _'Put the comic down and watch a movie with me'. _

Okay, that was strange. The deep voice he had heard was clearly Derek's, but he couldn't fathom why he was hearing his voice now.

'_But Batman is great' _

His own voice echoed endlessly throughout his own mind, as if it was a broken record constantly on replay. If this was a memory then he concluded Batman must be his favorite comic. Stiles couldn't get over how happy his voice had sounded in the memory –if that's what it was. It was much more happier than it sounded now, it sounded full of life and full of expression, now he just sounded inexpressive. Even to his own ears he sounded miserable and his voice sounded burdened, as if he had seen too much horrors in his life time to be able to sound happy. The thing is, Stiles couldn't remember seeing any horrors.

The fragile teenager jumped in fright as there was a soft knock on the door. His heart was beating loudly in his ears as he stared at the door with horror written on his face. Stiles knew it probably wasn't normal to be as jumpy as he was now, but he sincerely hoped there was an acceptance for him considering all he had been through.

'It's just me', came Derek's cool voice from behind the door and Stiles instantly relaxed. 'Can I come in?'

Stiles shrugged but then realized Derek couldn't see him, before he unlocked the door and went straight back on the bed, attempting to melt in with the pillows. Derek's observation made him want to hide as much as possible.

'You okay?', the young man asked, making no attempt to move any closer, which Stiles was thankful for.

Stiles was going to blatantly lie and say "yes, he was okay", but he didn't think lying was the answer nor was it going to get him anywhere. He shook his head before drawing his knees close to his chest and leaning his head on his knees. 'Not really'.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

Stiles pondered this for a moment before indicating to Derek that he could sit down if he wanted to. 'I think I need to'

'Okay', Derek started, 'What's bothering you?'

'Everything', Stiles replied honestly, 'I can't remember anything at all, I don't know who I am or who my father was, which is bad because I should feel bad about him dying but I don't. Y'know? Like if anyone else was in my situation they would at least have the decency to feel bad, but not me.

And it doesn't help that I'm petrified. I am so scared I don't even know what to do with myself. I don't want to leave this room because I might encounter another person I don't know. I'm scared that I might get kidnapped by some crazy, psychotic idiot who clearly enjoyed messing with me in the past.

I…I just don't know what to do with myself. I don't know who I am'

'You know nothing will hurt you, right? Not while you're in this house, not while I'm near you. I won't let you get hurt again'

Stiles nodded his head sadly, 'I know….thank you'

'Don't thank me yet', Derek's voice was grim, 'I've had to call the police as obviously you were reported as missing. You have to make a statement'

Stiles sighed loudly as he felt uneasy. He didn't want to leave the room. 'Do I have to?'. His voice was unsteady.

Derek reached out and covered Stiles hand with his own, 'I'll be there with you, every step of the way'.

And just like that, Stiles felt a little more relieved.

**Next chapter will have more Scott and maybe Isaac in it as I'm trying to ease them into this story. And Stiles doesn't know about Derek or Scott being wolves, so I'm wondering if I should make him find out or just start to remember? What do you guys think I should do? Xx **

**ps. Sorry for the mistakes, it's 2:30 in the morning and I am exhausted. :/**


	4. Chapter 4

**I would like to apologize for the extreme lateness of this chapter. On Saturday I was out all day and night and then yesterday I read Heroes of Olympus – House of Hades. I ended up writing this chapter extremely late last night and I was too tired to proof read it. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love you guys so much. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter 3 **

Stiles was shaking as they walked through the police department. Hell, he was basically quivering with doubt and fear whilst Derek kept a comforting hand on his shoulder, basically reassuring the young teenager that it was okay, and for that, Stiles was appreciative. It wasn't just that he had to speak to police offers about something that he had no recollection of, but also the mere fact that Scott had accompanied Derek and Stiles. Stiles had just felt like he was letting the teenager down by not remembering him and no matter how many times Scott started a conversation with him and talked about their childhood, Stiles just stared at him as if to say what-the-hell-man-I-don't-know-you.

Stiles genuinely did feel awful, but every time he tried to remember his "friend" he just developed a headache that made him rub his temples before asking Scott to be quiet in the nice way possible. He thought Scott's longing look of helplessness was annoying, until he walked into the police department only to have every officer look at him with a pure look of disbelief and sadness on their face. It was almost as if they had highly doubted that Derek had told them the truth about Stiles returning to a town that Stiles learnt to be called "Beacon Hills".

'It's okay', Derek had muttered to Stiles when the teen had tensed up with anxiety.

'Don't think I can do this', Stiles muttered, swallowing his own salvia even though his mouth was as dry as sand paper.

'Think positive'.

As easy as that sounded, it wasn't. When an African-American lady came up to him with a look of sympathy along with a very determined look on her young and refreshing face, it wasn't that hard to tell that yes, she must've known him. Well, he was just going to have to disappoint another person, because he had yet to discover his first memory let alone other memories that everyone had of him, yet he didn't have of them.

'Stiles, it's good to see you'…._alive. _He got the hidden innuendo that the officer couldn't quite say, probably wondering what would happen to him in his fragile state if she mentioned anything that could trigger a breakdown. But Stiles was okay…for now…as long as he had Derek there with him.

Stiles could tell from the guarded look on the officers face that she was trying impossibly hard to remain as diplomatic as possible, whilst contemplating whether or not it would be wise to give the teenager a hug. She apparently decided against it, much to the teenagers satisfaction.

'How are you?', She asked with her professional demeanor, but not giving Stiles the chance to talk. 'If its okay, we need to get a statement….'

'Of what?'. There was hysteria in the teenagers tone and Stiles had to bite his tongue to refrain from breaking down in the middle of the police station where his deceased father used to work as Sheriff.

'Anything you remember'

'I don't remember anything!'

Stiles was thankful when Derek's grip on his shoulder tightened a little, reminding him of where he was before he could lose it and start yelling at this lady who couldn't comprehend that he had no memories. Jesus, he had no memories of his father….or his mother, whom he had so kindly learnt died from cancer when he was extremely young.

'I understand that'. The lady kept her cool, 'but we still need to get a few things on tape before we can let you go. And if you refuse to cooperate, we will have no choice but to arrest you for disobeying a direct order from the Sheriff'.

Stiles looked up at her face, his chocolate brown eyes met her dark brown, almost black, eyes. 'F-fine' his heart was pounding in his chest and his thin frame shook a little.

They were led into a small room, Scott and Derek both standing in a corner with their arms crossed against their chest and their stance protective. Though, the gentle look the tanned man gave Stiles made him instinctively calm down.

He could get through this pathetic statement. _He hoped. _

Stiles watched as the new Sheriff placed a tape recorder in front of him, 'Okay Stiles, just relax.'

Stiles wanted to tell her that he was as relaxed as he was going to get in this room for what felt like an interrogation of sorts . He had a feeling she wouldn't listen or care, after all, this was her job. When he heard the click of the tape recorder, he took a deep breath.

'Do you remember what happened when you were taken?'.

'No' His voice was cold and once again he put on a façade in attempt to remain as emotionless and collective as possible.

'Do you know who took you?'

'No'

'Okay, let's try a different approach.' The Sheriff asked, her tone harsher than she probably meant it to be. 'What happened when you woke up? Where were you?'

A cold knot formed in Stiles stomach, _nerves. _'I-I uh was by a river, it was night time and i-uh'

'You what?'

'I walked to Derek's house'.

The Sheriff raised her eyebrows, 'how did you remember where to go?'

'I don't know'

'So, you're telling me that even though you have no memories, you knew how to get to Derek's place?'. She leaned forward as her eyes narrowed in questioning, unnerving the anxious teenager.

'No-I-uh, I don't know'

'You're lying'

'I'm not!'

Stiles was on the verge of panic. He could barely see as his vision was clouded over by dark spots that threatened to engulf him. He was sweating profusely and he swore he could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, threatening to deafen him. Just as he was about to be consumed by his panic, Derek intervened.

'Enough!'. His voice was firm, angry even and it sent a clear message to the Sheriff, who had switched of the tape recorder and had the decency to look guilt as Stiles sat there breathing heavily.

Stiles had barely registered when Scott sat next to him and tried to reassure him with his kind words. His mind was more so focused on Derek, who was scolding the Sheriff. 'I told you over the phone he wasn't ready for this and I was right'.

'We had to do something, I had to question him _Hale' _

'Not when he's like this, if his father was still alive he wouldn't have made Stiles do that'

'Yeah, well his fathers dead and we are not even close to finding out who killed him!', the Sheriff was angry at this point and Stiles figured he had to stop Derek from arguing with her, if only to keep what was left of his sanity intact.

'Enough!', Derek…._growled? _That seemed to do the trick as Stiles was being led to the car, Scott holding onto his arm as they walked to steady him.

It was when Stiles was in the car that he breathed a sigh of relief. The police station gave him the chills, made the fine hairs on his arms and neck stand up, while his headache threatened to turn into a migraine. Needless to say when they were finally on the road, with Derek driving and Scott in the shotgun seat, Stiles felt a little better than on the way back to Derek's house.

"_Son, I have something to tell you….". _

'What?', Stiles yelped, jumping in his seat.

'What is it?' both Derek and Scott said unanimously.

The fragile teenager shook his head as his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. 'N-nothing. I thought I just heard something'.

Stiles didn't miss the way the two in the front shared a look with each other nor did he ignore the look of confusion on Derek's face as he continued driving with a frown etched on his features.

"_Your mother has passed away". _

And just like that, Stiles knew the voice he was hearing was his fathers….

**Maybe next chapter Stiles will remember his dad a little more. Like when he was a child and stuff. Anyway, did you guys like this chapter? What did you think about the new Sheriff, personally she annoyed me a little bit? **

**Please review :)**

**P.s. Did you guys hear about Paul Walker! I am so sad. RIP :(**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, Boyd and Erica will not be in this story and you'll find out why later on when Stiles gets his memory back. (Sorry, nothing against them) And Sterek will happen because Sterek is my otp and they are meant to be together. **

**Thank you to the two people who reviewed. You guys are awesome! Enjoy Xx **

Stiles shivered as a cough escaped his thin lips for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The cold seeped throughout his body making him feel like ice. He was dressed in a jumper that was much too lose for him on his thin frame and sweatpants, after Derek had made dress warm the moment he went downstairs and complained of a headache. That was two days ago, and now, Stiles was plagued with the flu.

He was continually shaking and it didn't help that it had been pouring down with heavy rain for the past few days, leaving no way for Stiles to seek warmth. As it was, Derek had him on bed rest, stating that he was too weak and sick to be doing much other than resting…and eating…which Derek was constantly making him do. Apparently he was too thin. _Unhealthily thin. _As his "friend" Lydia had put it that same morning after visiting him before she had to go to school.

Stiles had met Allison that same morning, though he refrained from shaking hands with her as he refused to have direct contact with people other than Derek. Isaac, the sweet teenager, was trying to make progress with Stiles but he was totally uninterested, and he wished he cared for what the curly haired teen would talk about with him, but he didn't. Stiles honestly thought he had lost all his patience along with his memories, because he was sure that he wasn't as temperamental as this. Well, that's what Derek said anyway.

Apparently he used to be full of energy, he was loud, full of life, talkative, positive and happy, whereas now, he was sad, didn't talk much, negative and he was drained of energy. All those months of doing God knows what had exhausted him to the point where some days he couldn't even get up out of bed because his body was resisting it. His body wanted him to stay in bed all day and do nothing.

Still, he got out of bed and wandered around the house or was running errands with Derek, much to the young man's amusement. But today, he stayed in bed. Today, he was as sick as a dog, he was run down with a fever that he hadn't had yesterday. Today he needed to rest and sleep, as Derek told him to do on many occasions since he returned from who knows where.

The thing was, Derek didn't know about the nightmares that plagued the teenager every time he slept, the young man didn't know about the horrific flashbacks, he didn't know how badly Stiles wanted to cry every time he woke up from a nap. He just didn't know. Stiles knew that Derek would want him to talk about it with him, get it off his chest, but he didn't want to talk about. Talking about it meant that he would finally acknowledge the fact that some of his memories were haunting him to the point where he looked like a ghost from the lack of comfortable sleep he was getting.

Currently, the teenager was lying down on the couch, watching some movie that made absolutely no sense to him but still was pretty good and it made him chuckle in some bits, but he was really too tired to do anything than stare at the screen.

He could hear Derek walking around the house, doing God knows what, his constant and rhythmic footsteps lulling him to sleep whether he liked it or not, and he sound found himself closing his eyes slowly as his breathing evened out and sleep consumed him.

'_Your mother has passed away'. His father was holding back tears as he gathered his eight year old son in his arms and engulfed him in a hug. _

'_Da—no', the eight year old trembled in his father's arms, his legs giving out and his father was forced to carry him to the couch. 'I want mummy'._

'_I know, son, me too.' His father's was shaky and quiet, his posture deflated and he seemed to age ten years in the capacity of two minutes. _

_Eight year old Stiles held onto his fathers shirt as he buried his face into the older man's chest, his small body trembling as terrible sobs wracked through his body. The small boy eventually exhausted himself enough for his sobs to subside, with only tears leaking out of his eyes. When a tan boy, the same age as him, approached him and offered him a small smile Stiles could only stare at his friend, whom was looking at him as if he was debating whether or not he should give Stiles a hug. He did. It was a brotherly hug that allowed eight year old Stiles to straighten himself out and regain as much composure as he possibly could at this time. _

'_Do you wanna play a game?'. Eight year old Scott asked and Stiles felt his lips stretching out in a small smile. _

'_Hide and seek?', little Stiles asked hopefully. _

'_Sure!' _

Stiles gasped as he woke up, coughs wracking his body and his chest tightening with each breath he took. He couldn't believe what he had just dreamt, _remembered. _It was strange, he had just seen his father when he was younger and probably a few pounds lighter with darker hair, but he saw him like actually _saw_ him. This was the first time he could remember what his father looked like as well as Scott! Scott, man, he really had been an awful friend especially since Scott had been the first one –beside his father- to console him after his mothers death.

Stiles didn't think it was the flu that was making him shiver…well at least not the only reason.

'Stiles!', Derek knelt next to the teenager and grabbed his face in his hands. 'You okay?'

'No-yea, I don't know'. As happy as Stiles was that he had remembered something, he felt a little _off_. 'I just remembered something…oh man, it shouldn't be this hard to remember, in fact it should be quite easy, you know? I mean it is my own memory and….'

'Stiles, Stiles', Derek said gently in attempt to get the teenager to calm down. 'Take a breath'. The young man put a large hand on Stiles chest, gently pushing him on his back so he could take a few deep breaths and gather his wits.

Stiles was taken aback by the large hand over his chest. The way Derek gently touched him and talked with that soothing voice surprised the teenager, as Derek was more gentle than he could have ever imagined.

'Better?', Derek asked with raised eyebrows and smiled gently, his hand lingering on Stiles cheek to make sure his fever hadn't spiked.

'Much. Thank you'. After a moment's hesitation, Stiles looked up at Derek with wide eyes, 'do you think you could take me to where my dad is buried?'

/

Stiles held back tears as he looked at his fathers gravestone. _Beloved father and husband, _engraved in the stone. He only had one memory of his father, but that one memory was enough to make him feel sad for what had happened to his him and hell, he felt a little guilty. This was his fault, his father was dead because of him and now he was never going to be able to speak to his own father again.

The fragile teenager was scared and broken, and it sure would have been nice to have his own father helping him through this crazy ordeal. His father was the sheriff, and a great man who would have offered him comfort if he was still alive. As much as it was nice to have Derek there, Stiles needed someone to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay when it really wasn't going to be okay. He needed some one to tell him what to do, how to act or how to cope with his sudden memory loss.

'How did you say he died again?', Stiles asked, his voice quiet.

'I didn't. But he was found in the woods with a knife to the heart'

'He didn't suffer then'. If there was any consolation from his fathers untimely death, it was that.

Stiles remained silent after that, preferring to stare gloomily at the grave stone. He couldn't help but wonder what things would be like if his father were still alive. Would he be happy that Stiles was home? Would he try and help Stiles recover his memories? What would he do? There were so many ifs and buts that Stiles wanted to fall to his knees, rip out his hair and scream loud enough to let the world know that he was sick and tired of it.

He didn't know what type of life he had before this, but he was sure he was a good person and good people don't deserve to have anything bad happen to them. It's unjust and horrifying, almost like it's the universe's way of making a massive joke out of him just to get a good laugh out of it.

'We should get going', Derek murmured softly, 'you need to get back inside otherwise you'll get even more sick'.

Stiles sighed loudly before coughing. 'I guess you're right'

'If it makes you feel any better, I'm here for you'.

'It does', Stiles replied honestly, his heart fluttering as Derek looked at him with a serious but compassionate look.

As they walked back to the car, the teenager was grateful when Derek wrapped him arm around his waist and held him close.

He would deny it to anyone that asked, but it felt right to have Derek this close to him.

**Okay, I should probably mention that Stiles and Derek were dating before he lost his memory. So I think we will see them fall in love with each other all over again. **

**What are your thoughts on this chapter? What do you think about the way the Sheriff died, was it just a normal kidnapping case or was it something supernatural? And are you just as glad as I am for the small Sterek scene at the end? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to those who reviewed. A quick apology if this chapter is a bit bad (really bad), I ended up writing it in half hour. **

**Enjoy :) xx**

It was hard to say that Stiles was doing okay, because he wasn't. His anxiety levels were as high as the roof and he thought that things would never get better, that he would never get his memories back. Derek had tried to make him feel better, but Stiles didn't listen, he couldn't listen to Derek's reasoning as he felt as though he had lost himself. Stiles didn't know who he was before, but he just didn't feel right, like a part of him was missing.

Stiles would have sudden moments when he would remember things from his childhood, some bad memories and some good, but he was okay with regaining some of them back. As a result of regaining little parts of his memory, he had learnt that he and Scott had been best friends and that made him feel less awkward whenever Scott tried to have a conversation with him. He started becoming more dependent on his friend whenever he left his room, which was rare, but hey, he was making progress.

Two days after visiting his father in the cemetery, Stiles had decided to shut himself in his room, even went as far as to lock the door so no one would come barging in. He had no idea how long he had locked himself in his room for, but he knew it felt safe in there with a sense of familiarity looming in this room. He still had a major headache and his bones hurt and in no sense was he okay with being social today, even to Derek.

Stiles grabbed his pillows and blankets and took them to the corner of the room, where he had the sudden urge to relax for no particular reason other than it felt normal to him. He put the pillow on the side of wall before pulling the comforter around his small frame. Stiles didn't particularly like this position, but it felt normal for him to be like this, gathered up in a small ball whilst he shook and jumped at every little noise that he heard in the house. But hey, it felt normal.

The frail teenager didn't know that he had started crying until a sob escaped his him, but before he could try to detain his crying, he was full on sobbing and crying out for help. This wasn't him, he was out of danger but he felt like someone was still trying to kill him.

'_Shut up'….an angry voice said, causing him to flinch in fear. 'You make too much noise for someone so weak and pathetic'. _

'Let me in!', a voice yelled whilst banging hard onto the wood with their hands. 'Stiles!'. Stiles knew that voice anywhere, it was Derek's voice. No matter how angry or agitated the young man sounded, Stiles always found comfort in it.

'Derek', the teenager whimpered from the floor, unable to get up. 'help, please'. He whispered, broken, his voice sounded so weak that Derek's heart broke.

'Are you away from the door?', the man asked gently and sighed with relief as Stiles murmured "yes".

The frightened teenager jumped when the door flung open and Derek stood there with his chest puffing and looking like he was ready to kill anyone who dared lay a finger on him. However, his gaze softened when he saw Stiles in the corner, tears streaming down his face and his bottom lip sticking out.

Stiles crying increased as Derek knelt down next to him so that he was eye level with him. The concerned look on his face ignited something in the teenager and he soon flung himself on the elders chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and basking in the warmth that Derek offered him.

There was a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles and he soon found that the tension was leaving his body. 'Shh, you're okay'.

Stiles could only nod as he gripped the mans leather jacket and where he found those leather jackets, he would never know, but it sure was a good look on him.

'Derek', Stiles gasped as he thought he saw a small, dark room with only enough space for Stiles to stretch out his legs. It was cold, freezing actually, and there was a small gap, only about three centimeters wide which allowed limited fresh air inside the room. Actually, room would be a massive understatement as it was more of cell than anything else, what with the filthy floor and no space to move around. There was only a metal door that could only be opened from the outside.

Stiles heart rate increased and his breath hitched in his throat. He looked around the room wildly but all he saw was the cell.

_The air was thick and his breathing was labored, he couldn't see or hear anything as he was near unconsciousness. His arms were tied to the ceiling and he was hanging like a damn rag doll ready to get beaten up. _

'Snap out of it, Stiles'.

'Help me'. He clawed at his neck, struggling to breath as he began to gasp for air. 'I can't breathe'.

He felt himself being shifted so that he was in-between Derek's legs and his back pressed against his broad chest. There was a hand splayed over his chest and a soft voice whispering in his ear, but he couldn't hear anything except his own screaming in his ears as a fist connected with his stomach.

'Hurts', Stiles cried, thrashing about in Derek's arm.

'What does?', Derek's voice was panicky and loud, snapping Stiles out of the reverie and he fell limp in the young mans arms.

His breathing slowed down and he opened his eyes to find that Derek had wrapped his arms around him and was rocking him a little bit. Scott and Lydia were on either side of him, looking at him with worried expressions on their faces.

'You okay, dude?', Scott asked, his voice an octave higher than what it normally is.

Stiles didn't respond. He couldn't respond.

His body fell limp in Derek's arms and his head lolled to the side.

**So, I am sorry this is a short chapter and its really bad BUT I have been working on another fic and I forgot I had this chapter to write. (my bad). **

**Anyway, please leave your thoughts on this chapter or story so far, it definitely makes me want to write more. Love you guys :) Xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for how late this chapter is, but I have been preoccupied as I have family coming down from Greece and America. However, I made this chapter longer to make up for it. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and to Guest: You're not annoying and at the end of the chapter the person you keep mentioning pops up ;) **

**Enjoy Xx. **

Stiles was having a complete mental breakdown in front of everyone. He supposed he should have been completely and utterly embarrassed but he wasn't because he simply didn't have the energy to both have a breakdown and care about what people thought about him. It was hard enough that he was at a war with himself without caring about what the others thought of him.

As it was, it honestly felt like he was tearing himself apart with all these flashbacks of his ordeal, though, no matter how many memories he had regained, he was unable to put two and two together. It was horrible, being so close but yet so far, and Stiles knew it was messing with Derek and Scott as well. He could see the tension in the boys, particularly Derek, he could see the hard set of his jaw, the way he screwed his mouth shut in a thin line when Stiles said he was unable to remember everything. He supposed it was very stressful for all of them. Especially Scott. They had been best friends after all and now Stiles could barely remember their friendship.

Scott didn't want to push Stiles anymore than he already had and neither did Derek, who seemed to be lingering about like a bad smell, sometimes opening his mouth as if to say something but then shutting it again and walking away. It was confusing, irritating as well as frustrating, but Stiles put up with it. He had no idea why, but he did. There was something about Derek that was exceedingly familiar, so familiar in fact, that despite all those annoying traits about Derek –such as leaving the cap of the tooth paste, or grunting occasionally as if he was in pain- he was contempt with being in the company of him.

His mind wondered back to the other day, much as it had been doing for the past four days, the way Derek held him. He was so careful of him, almost like he was made of glass; the way Derek looked at him with concern after he had woken up after a minute of being unconscious. Stiles had formed butterflies in his stomach, and it wasn't from feeling nauseous.

"You'll be okay", he remembered Derek saying to him as he gently picked him up and gently tucked him in bed. He was just so gentle with him, that it physically hurt Stiles to know that they probably shared a past that he couldn't remember.

It wasn't hard to tell that they shared something, what with the way Derek's hands lingered on his back when he soothed the teenager after a nightmare, or the way Derek's fingers traced patterns on his arms when he was trying to sleep. It felt nice, though. Like home and intimacy, which where the two main things that he needed in his life due to his instability. He needed intimacy because he needed to feel loved and cherish, he needed that someone special to fall back on when things were going south. He needed to know that someone would always be there for him, despite all the wavering in his life that was making him unstable. He needed to feel like he was at home because it felt safe when he was with Derek; he felt protected and respected when he was with Derek, in the same way he imagined he would if he was with his father.

Now, as he and Derek were going for a short walk through the forest to build up his strength, Stiles stayed close to the young man, feeling protected and secure when he was within reach of him. He observed the tanned man who could barely even be considered a man as his eyes gave away how young he really was. He had a thick beard due to him neglecting those "impractical" razors that stayed in the same spot besides the basin each morning, he had cold, hard eyes that always softened for him and only him, and a smile that was seen so rarely but could light up the entire room.

Stiles didn't know it now, but that smile that was rarely seen was always reserved for him, and only him.

"Thanks for agreeing to let me out the house", Stiles murmured, lamely. He honestly could have hit his head for how dumb and pathetic he probably sounded right now.

Derek shrugged off Stiles awkwardness like he was used to it, which he probably was, "it's good for you to get out the house. You know, get some fresh air and whatnot"

"I suppose….feels weird to be outside, weird, I know".

The young man stopped and stood directly in front of Stiles, "It's not as weird as you think it is. Small steps". Then he started walking again, making the anxiety ridden teenager jog to catch up with him, which made him more exhausted than it should have.

He really needed to put up some weight or exercise more. Maybe both.

"This all seems familiar", Stiles stated as he paused to look at a tree that had major damage done to its trunk. Almost as if a person –who must've weighed as much as a brick wall- crashed into it. Which was highly improbable considering that if a person was thrown with this much force they would have died and plus, who was able to throw someone with this much force anyway? Unless they weren't human, which in that case would make total sense and shit, his mind was really getting off track.

"It should", Derek spoke seriously, his eyebrows scrunching together, "feel familiar, that is. This is where we met".

"Really?"

"Yeah, you were with Scott at the time"

Stiles felt himself getting agitated again. There were so many memories that he had lost and hadn't regained yet, and it was annoying that everyone around him knew more about him than he did himself. How long could he live like this, with no idea who he was? How long could he pretend that he was holding himself together, when he in fact, wasn't?

Before he could get himself too worked up, he felt cool but calloused hands on his chin, lifting his face so that he was looking up into the older boys eyes. "You'll get them back". At Stiles incredulous expression, he said "your memories that is".

The teenager scoffed, "how do you know that, huh? I may never get them back and what do I do then, huh?". This sudden burst of anger was draining away at his energy, but nevertheless, he remained resilient.

"_If _you can't get them back, then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. But for now, you just need to work on getting yourself better, physically speaking. Much too thin for my liking".

"You're nice", Stiles whispered, eyes wide as he looked up to see Derek smiling at him with him amusement.

"Only to you", the man said before continuing to walk onwards with Stiles lingering closely behind him.

They both ignored it when they entwined their hands. It felt nice, though.

/

Stiles woke with a strangled scream. He was sweating profusely and he clawed at his throat again as it felt as though there was a thick rope around it. He felt warm hands taking his own hands away from his neck to stop the damage that he was conflicting upon himself, and holding them at his side whilst he continued to thrash around, frightened, for a few more minutes. When he came to, he saw an extremely tired Derek looking down at him with alarm.

"You're okay", Derek spoke quietly, much like he did every other night despite no one else currently residing in the house at night times.

Stiles let a strangled sob and looked up at Derek with dazed eyes, "I know". He grabbed at the mans forearms in a desperate plea to make him stay with him, if only for a little while at least. "Stay with me?", he asked, a little too innocently, but Derek simply nodded his head and slid in besides Stiles, drawing the comforters up to their chins. Stiles smiled slightly when the older man put a protective arm around him and drew him closer to his chest.

If Derek had any problems about Stiles putting his head on his chest, he didn't say anything.

The way that they were acting with was extremely familiar.

The next morning was quiet. On a normal morning Scott, Lydia and maybe their respective partners would visit him and Derek, but today, there was nothing. It was peaceful and quiet and to say Stiles didn't appreciate it, would be a lie. He could tell that Derek appreciated it as well. Normally the tanned, young man would be walking around the house looking extremely tense and his nostrils flared, but he was now sitting at the table with Stiles, looking more relaxed than the teenager had ever seen him. He looked almost chirpy as he sat down reading something on his phone whilst eating cereal.

"You don't like the others much?", Stiles guessed after he took a bite out of his toast, washing away the taste with orange juice.

Derek raised his eyebrows almost comically, "am I _that_ obvious?"

"Yes". Stiles replied at once, now taking a bite out of the apple that Derek insisted he had every morning with his breakfast. Something about nutrition and yada, yada, yada. "Why don't you like them?"

"Who said I don't like them?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "okay, so you're not particularly fond of them then. That's cool, no judgment from me, a.k.a the guy who can't remember a single thing, but hey, at least you're not mean to me"

"I'm not mean to them", Derek countered, his expression between amusement and annoyance, but Stiles felt like Derek had put up with his ridiculous arguments in the past.

"You're not particularly nice to them"

Derek snorted even though Stiles wasn't even being funny, which made the teen's eyebrows raise in questioning. "You seem a lot like your old self".

"Sounds like he was a great guy", Stiles replied sarcastically, giving a grin to Derek.

Derek reached out to grab Stiles hand from the opposite side of the table, "he still _is_ a great guy".

/

It wasn't Stiles fault that he was falling for Derek, okay, it definitely was not his fault. He couldn't help those damn butterflies whenever Derek talked to him or grabbed his hand anymore than he could help his flushed cheeks when Derek's hand brushed past his butt. It was Derek's fault though, what with his Greek-god type looks and all those damn muscles that he showed off in a tight tank top later that afternoon when the sun had finally broken past those depressing clouds.

After suggesting they sit outside the back for a little while, Stiles found himself sitting down on the green grass, not minding the fact that his butt was getting wet due to the damp ground. His shoulder was touching Derek's, but neither of them moved away. It was relaxing and when Stiles put his head on Derek's shoulder, he wasn't even surprised to feel Derek's lips on his forehead, giving him a quick kiss whilst entwining their fingers together and resting their hands on his legs.

"This is nice", Stiles murmured, nuzzling his face on the crook of Derek's neck.

"Just like old times". Derek spoke with such passion and love that Stiles found it hard to believe the whole "mystery" thing this guy had attempted with his cold looks and leather jackets.

"I wish I could remember", Stiles could literally feel the air around them go from peaceful to tense and he couldn't help but cringe.

"Let's not talk about that, not now at least".

Stiles stomach did a turn as he felt cool fingers lifting his chin up, before he felt a pair of warm lips on his own. At first he froze, unsure of what to do, but as the lips on his started moving slowly, he relaxed and melted into it. Warm hands combed through his hair, rubbing his scalp with affection, as if they had kissed a thousand times before.

"Well, if it isn't the love birds", a cold and unfamiliar voice said.

Stiles definitely did not let out an extremely high pitch scream, no, it was an extremely manly scream.

**First of all, we have Sterek! Second of all, who do you guys think interrupted their kiss? **

**Review and tell me what you think. :) xx **


	8. Chapter 8

**So, I am typing this up on my broken laptop because my Desktop has stuffed up and can't really see properly because the screen is broken. I'm getting a new laptop soon so fingers crossed I can update more frequently. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and I hoped you guys enjoy this chapter :) xx **

This guy was a creep, Stiles could tell that much from his narcissistic smile and his cold eyes that felt as though they were burning holes in his head. Derek didn't say anything as he subconsciously hid a little behind the larger man's shoulders, but the man that was staring down at them sadistically gave them a small smirk. Whoever he was, Stiles got the creeps from him. Derek -despite being tense- looked like he was accustomed to this man's behavior, staring at him as if to say -what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here.

It wasn't that he thought this guy was going to kill him, it was just something off with him, almost like he was nothing but pure evil and got his kicks out of messing with people's heads and making them feel like they were mentally incapable of achieving anything. Stiles didn't like him, not one bit. His instincts were telling him to run and get the hell out of here and out of this man's sights, but his brain was telling him to stay put and stay close to Derek. He chose the latter, after all, Derek had this uncanny ability to make him feel calm and safe.

"It's good to see you again, nephew". At first Stiles thought this man was speaking to him and he panicked internally before realizing it was addressed to Derek, who was practically glowing with rage.

"I wish I could say the same about you, Uncle Peter". Derek's voice was even and calm, but Stiles could tell that he was unnerved by the sudden visit from his uncle.

Peter raised an eyebrow as he looked at Stiles, making his stomach churn with fear and he quickly made a grab for Derek's hand, holding it tightly in his eyes and feeling a little better when the young man squeezed it back. He was surprised by the murderous look on Derek's face though and he could practically hear the wheels turning as he looked at the tanned man. Stiles could tell he was refraining himself from saying what he really wanted to say to Peter and it was because of him, because he was there. Stiles wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing that Derek was refraining. He didn't think he could handle seeing Derek get into a fights. Derek was much too good for fighting anyways.

"It's good to see you, Stiles, alive that is. For a few months I was thinking that you had died but alas, you're alive and well, except for that little matter concerning your memory. I'll bet you don't even remember me"

"He's lucky then". Derek retorted, standing up in front of Stiles protectively. With Derek's backside to him, Stiles couldn't see his face but he could only assume that Derek had a scowl on his face, as he did for everyone but him. He kind of felt good about that.

"How's your dad, Stiles?". The man asked, cockily, smirking as Stiles paled and black spots obscuring his vision as well as his chest tightening, making it difficult for him to be able to breath

"Enough".

Stiles swore to God that he heard Derek growl afterwards but he simply shook his head. He must have been delirious or something.

/

After that crazy encounter from Derek's crazy uncle, Stiles took to spending time with Scott when he came to visit. It was very rare that he would leave Derek's side, but he didn't want to risk the possibility of running into the crazy man again. So, after a little bit of pleading, Scott reluctantly agreed to take him out, promising Derek that they would only be out for a couple of hours.

It was nice to get out of the house again. He found with each journey outside of the house the more confidence he gained and the more better he felt about actually being outside. The thought of going outside was enough to make him cringe, but once he was actually out of the house it wasn't so bad, even with Scott as his company.

Scott took him to a diner that they apparently used to go to when they were kids in hopes that it would help the teenager remember something, but Stiles just shook his head and sat down at a table, waiting for Scott to order their drinks.

Stiles could tell that Scott was really hoping that something in his memory returned from this diner and Stiles could see the devastation one the other teenagers face when none of his memories returned.

"I'm sorry", Stiles said to break the awkward silence.

"Don't be, it's not your fault. I just wish you would get a little something back, you know? I was hoping this place might have helped..."

"What would you say if I told you that I remember bits of pieces of random stuff?". Stiles took a long drink of his milkshake as he watched Scott's expression on his face go from unease to a little hopeful. To Stiles, he kind of looked like a little lost puppy.

"Of the time you were gone?"

"Mostly bits and pieces of my life. Like, I remember playing Mario Carts with you for the first time in our lives"

Scott chuckled fondly at the memory and Stiles could see how that one little piece of information made his friend happy. "I remember that! It was like when we were eight and you slept over. We were meant to be in bed because it was late, but we snuck downstairs anyway." He laughed fondly, "Mum wasn't too happy when she came down stairs in the morning to find us asleep all over the floor"

"Sounds like we were rebels". Stiles mused at the idea, of his little eight year old self sneaking down to the lounge room just to play a game with his friend.

"The most rebellious kids in the neighbor hood!".

After that, he and Scott fell into easy conversation, with Scott often talking about their childhood and all the mischief they used to get up to when they were younger and the fragile teenager found himself relaxing and settling down in his seat whilst Scott talked. Stiles occasionally put in his input, but for the most part he was happy to sit there and listen to what his friend had to say. It just felt normal.

Exactly what he needed after that strange afternoon with Derek and his uncle whom he already despised after one meeting. He dared to use his fathers death on him and make him feel even more like shit than he already felt? That was low.

"You should have seen your face when your dad caught us stealing his Jim Beam!". Scott snapped him out of his reverie, his attention now on the tanned teenager who looked too excited to be sharing stories.

Stiles stomach dropped as Scott mentioned his father. He barely knew who he was and yet he still felt like shit every time someone brought him up, it didn't help that he felt exceedingly guilty. _He_ was missing and if his father didn't go and look for _him_, the man would still be alive, probably stressing out about Stiles, but nevertheless, alive. Stiles would have honestly killed a million people for his father to still be alive.

It just would have felt nice to have a living parent guiding him through this ordeal, but he guess he should have been grateful he had Derek..and...and Scott.

At the deflated expression on Stiles face, Scott's smile dropped and he profusely apologized over and over again. Stiles didn't need to be psychic or contain magical powers to realize that Scott felt like a dick.

"We should get back", Scott stated and Stiles only nodded his head before following his friend out of the diner.

He both enjoyed and regretted his time out of the house.

/

Stiles should have felt happy about going back home. But he didn't. Home wasn't really home any more than it was Derek's place where he was currently residing because he had no idea where he used to live before he lost his memory. He wouldn't ask Scott about his old house or Derek. He didn't think it was a necessity as of yet. Plus, he was sure everyone else had more important things to take care of, like Derek with his uncle or Scott with his girlfriend -who he had blown off to take Stiles out- bless his little soul.

The sight when Stiles opened the door was truly horrifying. Normally there would be a soft song full of instrumentals playing on the radio, with a window open slightly to allow a cool breeze through the house, but now, there was none of that.

There was smashed windows, shattered glass all over the floor boards and the furniture was all over the place. A bit of the couch in the walkway and even a chair from the kitchen lay broken and splintered by Stiles feet by the walkway. His first reaction was to call the police, but he refrained from doing so as he heard a growl within the house, reverberating from he walls, making it seem like a whole bunch of dogs were growling.

"Stiles", Scott said in warning, stretching his hand to grip onto Stiles shoulder, but he simply shrugged him off and continued to walk into the house, wondering what the hell was going on.

He was more than shocked when he found Derek pushing his uncle up against the wall. But that wasn't what just shocked him. What shocked him more was their faces. Sharp fangs were protruding from their gums, they had hair, no fur, all over their faces and their eyes, more specifically Derek's eyes, were red.

Stiles didn't recognize him. He knew it was him, _obviously_, but it didn't look like him. Normally Derek looked...well...he didn't look like this. Right now he looked inhumane, he looked dangerous which was quite different from his normal demeanor that made Stiles feel safe and sound.

Derek didn't recognize him at first so when Stiles walked up to him in pure shock, Derek let out an ear-piercing roar.

The anxiety ridden teenager jumped back and gasped; his brown eyes open wide with shock as he let out a strangled scream. Even as Derek's eyes softened and his face returned to what is was before, Stiles was still petrified.

"Don't touch me", Stiles said in a shaky voice as he man held out his hand.

Stiles didn't wait for any explanations from anyone. No, he was already out the door, running away from the house as if his life depended on it.

He couldn't believe that he had trusted Derek.

**Okay, so Stiles found out about Derek and Peter! Do you think his reaction was justified or did he over react? And what about Peter being a sarcastic jerk at the beginning; God I love him even though I made him a dick. Ahah**

**Please leave a review :) **

**ps. If I don't update as frequently it's because I legit have no access to a computer :) xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the extremely late update but HEY I GOT A LAPTOP THAT ACTUALLY WORKS SO I CAN UPDATE! (that makes me happy). Thank's to everyone who reviewed last chapter and I can assure you, that I am working on the next chapter and plan to get it up as soon as I can. (hopefully two days). Enjoy Xx**

Some would say that Stiles was being overly dramatic, irrational even, but the thing about Stiles is that for him, he wasn't. The further he ran from Derek and that man Peter, the happier and more carefree he got, almost like there was a weight being lifted off his chest, making it easier to breathe. He knew that once he calmed down he would reflect back and think of the best way to rationally handle it, but for now, he needed to be alone...well, as alone as he was going to get.

As he slowed down to a brisk walk, dodging branches as he did so, he was well aware that someone was following him, that someone being Scott or Derek, but he didn't mind as long as they kept their distance from him. Sure he might have calmed down considerably, but he wasn't up to talking to anyone and seeing _that _face. The face that he didn't even recognize with the fangs and fur all over his face.

Just thinking about it gave Stiles shivers, but he pushed the thought aside and smiled when he saw a small clearing. It was perfect to sit down and relish in his time alone. As much as he enjoyed the presence of others, sometimes it was nice to be alone, especially now, what with the beginnings of a migraine.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, leaning on a tree for support but he soon fell into daze before falling into a light sleep. Stiles should probably learn not to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions that it hurts his neck, but he would just chose to ignore his faults. At least for a little while.

_"Stop being such a sour-wolf". Stiles voice rang out throughout his mind, making him twitch a little in his sleep. _

_"Shut up, or I'll rip your throat out...with my teeth". Derek growled menacingly, but Stiles didn't feel scared at all, in fact, he found it more humorous than anything because if he'd have a dollar for every time Derek used that threat against him, he would be rich. Possibly give Ellen a run for her money. _

_"You don't scare me anymore". Stiles said confidently, taking a step closer to the man. _

_"Anymore" Derek replied, raising his eyebrows in question. "I should scare you, you know that? I should fucking make you cower in fear". _

_"But you don't", Stiles reasoned,"You stopped scaring me the moment you saved me from Peter. You act like you're this big powerful wolf that hates everyone, which the wolf part is true, but you don't hate people and you don't hate me". _

_"You shouldn't be here, Stiles". Derek growled, moving closer as he gripped Stiles biceps with a tight grip. "We have the witches on the way and if you get in the way I'll..."_

_"You'll what? Derek, you need me and I need you. Do you remember the Kanima, huh? Remember how you saved me and then I saved you. Der, we're a team and we work better together. Don't make me go, let me fight and help you, at least until the pack comes. I just, I don't want to leave you alone now. Not now"._

"_Stiles, I..."_

"_You what, Der? Don't say you want me gone"_

"_The witches are almost here, I beg you, stay behind me and please don't get hurt. We'll talk about this later". _

_As Stiles was about to protest, he was stunned into silence by a pair of cool lips on his own. It felt right, almost perfect if it weren't for the urgency in Derek's eyes as he backed away and stared at the door with panic on his features. "Get behind me"._

The teenager woke up with a startled sob, he realized that he wasn't alone nor was he in the same spot when he had dozed off. He was now in a familiar bed and in a familiar room. _His room._ The same posters were on the same blue walls, his bed was in the same place and his laptop and desk was exactly where it had always been. It was almost as if after he had disappeared no one came into his room. It was like when his mother had died. No one went into her room at all, his father had taken to sleeping on the couch instead of sleeping in their shared rooms. The memories in there were too painful to bear and Stiles could only imagine how his father coped after he had disappeared for all those months.

There it was again. His father.

A painful lump appeared in his throat and he had cough uncomfortably to compose himself. Stiles didn't have recollection of all his memories, but things were beginning to be clearer for him. He remembered his father when he was younger and Scott as well, he remembered some things of his mother, other memories he guessed he had repressed as a psychological thing. The main thing was the fact that he remembered Derek, when Stiles and him finally got together. As Stiles remembered it in his mind, it was like he was relieving the memory over again, the same feelings coursing throughout his skinny body as he reminisced about the day when Derek finally reciprocated Stiles feelings for him.

"Stiles?", came a calm voice from the chair at the desk, his curly hair all over the place as if he had a run a marathon. His blue eyes made this guy look innocent enough to get away with murder.

"Isaac", Stiles breathed, running a hand through his messy, disheveled hair. "What are you doing here? Better yet, what am _I_ doing here?"

"I was following you".

Oh, he made it seem like it was the most logical thing ever, which taking into account of the situation he was in and what he was, Stiles supposed it was normal to have a werewolf following him around like a lost stray. Oh God, he was starting with the dog jokes.

"You were mumbling a lot in your sleep", Isaac stated, concerned as he moved forward as if he wanted to jump up on Stiles bed and smother him with his hugs. Stiles couldn't blame him, the guy looked like he had gone through a hard life. "Were you having a nightmare?"

"Not really", Stiles admitted, "unless you count memories as nightmares, which I highly doubt you would?"

"Depends on what you remembered. If had something to do with Derek it was most probably a nightmare".

Stiles laughed, "quiet the opposite actually'.

A look of understanding fell upon Isaac's face as he looked as though he wanted to vomit. "you guys always have been sickeningly cute".

Isaac wasn't even joking.

/

Stiles walked the hallways, his eyes taking in the walls, every crack in the corners and the white walls that were now a cream color due to not being maintained. There was dust on the walls as well, which led him to believe that after his dad had died that no one even bothered to come here anymore.

On the walls were photo's that caused Stiles enough pain that he wanted to vomit. There were pictures of his mother, his father and him when he was obviously younger and happy. He looked so carefree, like nothing could ever hurt him, but now, he looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. A picture with his mother holding him and kissing his cheek brought a tear to his eyes and he averted his gaze, only to be met with a picture of his mother and father on their wedding. Their arms were linked together and they had huge smiles on their faces.

That's when Stiles did vomit everything in his stomach. Life wasn't meant to be this hard, his life wasn't meant to be this bad. He was meant to be a normal kid going to school everyday and bitching and moaning about homework. Instead, he was struggling with memory loss and the overwhelming sense of grief.

Stiles had enough of his life.

**Yay for shitty chapters. Next chapter will be better I hope. Anyway, please leave your thoughts in the review section :) x**


	10. Chapter 10

**omg, I am so sorry. I am such a twat. I haven't uploaded in so long and I feel so bad, I am so so so sorry, so I've started working on the next chapter. Already got like 600 words for that chapter. I am so sorry. **

**And for Guest who reviewed, don't worry, I have plans for Peter and he'll get whats coming :) xx  
**

**Enjoy :) x**

It was hard to say when Stiles finally calmed down enough to get up from the hallway floor and it was hard to say when Derek had come over and held him whilst terrible sobs racked throughout his petite frame. He didn't know if Isaac had called Derek or not, but Stiles was just thankful that someone was there to physically support him, otherwise he might have collapsed without having the strength to rise from the floor.

Despite Stiles feeling pathetically weak, he knew he was stronger than most people his age, after all, he had matured into a young man without his mother there to see him grow, his father had died looking for him after he got taken by who knows what, and his best friend and everyone he hangs around with are some supernatural creatures that probably hunt deer in their sleep. Was it mentioned that Derek...-his partner?-...was a werewolf with a psychotic uncle that Stiles wanted to punch just for the hell of it. Okay, maybe if Peter wasn't such a tool, Stiles wouldn't have the urge to punch the smirk right of his pretty little face, but really, Peter couldn't change who he was any more than Stiles could control his fist slipping and "accidentally" punching him.

Oh, how Stiles liked to day dream about a situation that was never going to happen because he was too mentally unstable to do anything other than act like a childish brat at times and an overbearing teenager the very next minute.

It was frustrating, for him, Derek, Scott and Isaac too.

As Stiles was led to his bed again, he chose to ignore some of the vomit that had made it's way down his shirt and some on his pants from where he fell. He ignored it in favor of pretending that he hadn't just made a complete fool out of himself. He had suffered enough embarrassment as it was.

"I don't think you should stay here any longer than necessary Derek said, his stature stiff and his lips in a tight line.

"It's my home" Stiles voice was stern and serious, but underneath the stern exterior was a little boy who was petrified and had no idea where to go from here; Derek knew it, but refrained from saying anything, which Stiles was grateful for.

Derek looked away from Stiles, his eyebrows pinched together as he contemplated the teenagers words, but the expression on his face made Stiles think that something else was troubling him, something that Derek wasn't going to share any time soon and something that Stiles had no energy to ask him right now. Not with the fact that his energy had evaporated along with the contents in his stomach.

/

It was totally fair to say that something was bothering Derek. Totally.

It wasn't like Derek was being inconspicuous about the fact that something was bothering him, not with the way he stood rigid at Stiles' window, staring out at the now night sky with a look of determination on his face. Stiles would watch Derek with a comedic expression as he saw the older man walk back and forth, his muscles bulging and his jaw tensing as he looked around the room as if searching for ways someone could enter the room.

It was when Isaac was walking around the house, pausing every so often that Stiles finally sat up in his comfortable bed so he could face Derek without twisting in an uncomfortable position.

"You're very _antsy, _tonight"

"No I'm not

"You really are. Is something wrong? the teenager asked hesitantly, a an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach.

He watched as the elder hesitated, his lips conforming to a tense line as his eyes narrowed in something that could only be described as hostile. I don't want to make you panic or anything, but something is off."

"Okay". That was all Stiles could say, after all, how was he meant to react? Was he meant to get up from his bed, and prance around the room in fright? He wasn't precisely sure what he would have done before all of this, but he decided to be as mature about this as possible. "What should we do, call the cops?"

"I don't know" Derek grumbled, he was clearly frustrated, but with himself more than anything.

Stiles firmly placed his bare feet on the ground, his honey colored eyes glazed as he looked over at Derek. "Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I'm with _you_, Der

Derek raised his eyebrows...those god-damn eyebrows that Stiles swore would be the death of him. "Pack your bags and come back home"

"This is my home" Stiles voice cracked, but he knew that Derek was only worrying about him and he would do whatever Derek wanted...after all, he trusted Derek with his life. "But I understand".

/

Stiles made sure to take as many pictures of his father and mother as he could. With each picture he packed, the more grief he felt. It felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his thin shoulders.

Stiles had a great desire to find the idiot who did this to him. He would do all he could to do whatever it took to avenge his fathers death. He wasn't a strong believer in karma, but he did believe in revenge and he was going to get it. If it wasn't for the psychopathic, sadistic idiot who took him, his father would be alive and well. Stiles would be damned if he let this sadistic _monster _get away with murder.

**Please review guys, it helps me and always makes my day. And once again, I am so, so, sorry. If you guys could forgive me, I'll bake you cookies. **

**P.S. How amazing was episode 13! Poor Stiles!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I was going to upload yesterday night, but because of the strange weather Australia is having, I had a power failure for hours :( **

**Thanks to the people who reviewed and I hope all of you enjoy this chapter xD  
**

"_Grief is like riding an emotional roller-coaster. You will surely go through the ups and downs when you are on the ride" - Unknown _

Three days had gone by before Stiles was sat down at the kitchen table, with a cup of tea in front of him, and a stern set of green eyes on him, watching him with curiosity and cautiousness. The wind howled horribly and Stiles shook further in his large jumper that hung loosely on his frame. It made him look ridiculous, but there was something comforting about wearing this jumper, especially when he could burrow himself in it, in desperate plea to escape the depressing world that he lived in.

The past days had been hell for the teen, sometimes his grief got the best of him and he found himself lashing out at the others who were simply trying to help him. He felt horrible straight after lashing out, but it was too late, the damage was done by then and Stiles swore that he would learn to think before speaking to prevent offending someone else. The only time he didn't feel bad about yelling was when he was yelling at Peter, yelling at the man that he was a "stubborn, conceited, misogynistic imbecile who should probably leave because no liked at him". Peter had only smiled, which made Stiles want to punch him in the face _again._

When Stiles would cool down enough to not want to physically hurt someone, he would fall in stupor and sit on the couch, with his legs to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself, seething in the amount of guilt he felt. He had always thought it was best to apologize, but it was impossible for him to do so without feeling like the worst person the "pack" had ever come across.

There were also times when he would lock himself in his room, sit in the corner and cry, not caring if anyone heard him because he was simply too sad to care about anyone else. These moments were the worst, Stiles thought, because moments like these was when Stiles became too consumed in grief to think about the bigger picture in life. It was moments like this that Stiles couldn't focus on anything positive, nor could he focus on getting revenge, because first of all, no one had any leads and second of all, he just wanted to bathe in his misery.

Now, as Derek sat in front of him, he was sure he was going to get told off, or at least scolded at for his behavior. In his defense, he just wasn't in the mood for people or life. He was sure Derek could relate after all this shit he had been through in his life, it was more than what someone his age should have to go through.

It hurt Stiles to know that both himself and Derek were condemned to a life of unhappiness and sorrow.

"I don't know why you think I would yell at you for", Derek's voice drawled out as if he read Stiles mind. At Stiles incredulous facial expression Derek smiled kindly, "werewolf. Remember?"

Stiles heart hammered in his chest, after all, how in hell could he forget that Derek was a werewolf? "Remembering things aren't really my forte".

Over the past few days, in between the grieving process, Stiles had started to become a little like his old self, even throwing in a horrible joke or two. Stiles stomach did a flip when the corners of Derek's mouth twitched, as if he was going to laugh but was deciding against that.

"There are some things you need to know". Derek began, running a hand through his jet, black hair -which was uncharacteristic of him- and staring at Stiles with a mixture of sympathy and anxiety. "The police have found the person who kidnapped you"

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but feel a little better, that was until Derek opened that god-damn mouth of his and ruined the euphoric feeling that Stiles was beginning to feel.

"The man's escaped. He killed one of the deputies in the process".

Stiles dropped his hot cup of tea, burning his hands in the process, as he stared at Derek with nothing but panic in his eyes. He didn't even register the fact that his hands were bright red from the scalding tea, he could only see brown eyes so dark they looked black, he could only hear the menacing laughter that haunted him in the distance of his dreams.

/

Stiles was on edge for the next few days, he was jittery, uninterested in the outside world and dysfunctional. He would zone out at all times of the day, stuck in memories that were slowly coming back and making him a impaired individual with serious issues. The amount of stress that was on his body wasn't healthy, he still hadn't fully recovered from the flu and he hadn't had an adequate amount of sleep in ages that wasn't conflicted with nightmares or the need to do something other than sleep.

Stiles sleep patterns were unhealthy for a teenager his age, his normal, every day patterns were abnormal for a teenager his age, he was just unhealthy and one day, after dozing off on the couch only to wake up screaming murder, Derek sat him down and suggested seeing a counselor.

He dismissed it.

He didn't want to feel more like a freak than he already was.

He didn't care if he was healthy or not, he would not be subjected to seeing a counselor.

It was a day after Derek suggested that he heard the tanned man speaking to Scott and Lydia about it, stating that the police desperately needed something, _anything_, to go on in order to catch the man _again_. Stiles still wasn't ready to see a counselor, he wasn't ready to do much other than stay inside and sink deeper and deeper into depression that was consuming his mind.

He wanted to catch the man that killed his father, but the crippling fear of going outside and speaking to someone whom he didn't know was unbearable. He would rather stay inside the house with Derek or Scott, hell, even Lydia, because it meant that he was safe.

/

The first flake of snow was when Stiles finally went outside after a week of staying indoors. He borrowed some of Derek's warm and much too big clothing -that made him feel so comfy and oh so warm- and went outside slowly, with Derek trailing closely behind him. Scott was sitting down at a bench outside with Allison, laughing and taking pictures of her on his phone; he looked so young and carefree, and it made Stiles ecstatic to know that his best friend was happy. He hadn't seen Scott so happy since he could remember.

Stiles and Derek, the dynamic duo, as Lydia had referred to them, slowly walked around the Hale property, strolling side by side and taking in the beautiful scenery. The trees were dusted with a soft sprinkling of snow, whilst the ground seemed to be illuminated by the bright, white snow. As the snow fell softly, the wind had subsided to the point where it was completely gone and only a small chill swept over Stiles.

"Do you want my jacket?", Derek asked softly as the teenager shivered a little.

"You'll get cold though", Stiles tried to argue, caring more about Derek's health than his own.

"I'm a werewolf, Stiles, we don't really get cold as much as you humans do".

The teenager didn't protest once Derek took off his jacket and wrapped it around him tightly, staring at him with an expression on his face that could only be described as love. Stiles subconsciously moved closer to Derek, closing his eyes as he did so, before his lips met the man's chilly lips.

That was the second time Stiles could remember kissing Derek.

/

**So what do you think? Now that the man has escaped what do you think might happen? Do you think he'll leave town or go after Stiles? Please, leave your thoughts and review :) xx**

**oh and to my fav guest ;) Go ahead and write something, just go for it! x**


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